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Authors: Marta Perry

BOOK: How Secrets Die
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“Two pieces of pie on a plate,” he said. “It was lying in the grass next to the walk.”

Kate nodded. “I must have dropped it when I ran.” She glanced at her watch. “I'd guess I left at about eight fifteen, but I'm not sure.”

He'd already spoken to his parents. His mother had no idea, but Dad put the time at around eight fifteen, maybe five minutes either way at the most.

“Did you stop anywhere on your way back?”

Kate shook her head.

“So, figure ten to twelve minutes once you got going to get here.”

“Or a bit longer. I don't know the roads as well as you do.”

True enough. “Did you come straight inside?”

She looked slightly embarrassed. “I probably hesitated. Usually Mrs. Anderson has the back porch light on, but she didn't. I got out my keys with the penlight attached. The city is never totally dark,” she said defensively.

In other words, she had taken what were probably normal precautions for her. “Right. When did you hear someone?”

Kate pressed her hand to her forehead. “I think not until I'd realized that the door was unlocked. I backed up—I was going to go to Mrs. Anderson's, but it didn't look like she was home.”

“You should have called me.” He couldn't prevent the personal note from intruding.

“I knew you were at the fire.” She shivered, rubbing her arms. “Anyway, I could hear someone in the bushes. Coming closer—I glanced back.”

“Did you see him at all?”

“Just as a man-sized shadow.” She glanced at him. “Run, hide, fight. That's what my stepfather always said. It was go toward him or come into the cottage, so I ran inside and locked the door.”

“Did you turn the lights on?”

She shook her head. “The front drapes were open. I didn't want to be seen from outside. That's when I heard Larry make a noise and knew someone was in here with me.”

Kate rubbed her arms again, hugging herself. He wanted to put his arms around her and knew he couldn't.

“And then?”

“I turned my penlight toward the noise and saw him. Larry, that is. And called you.”

Her call had come in about thirty minutes after she'd left the farmhouse. He didn't see how she could possibly have had time to get in here, find Larry and hit him. But the questions had to be asked.

“We'll be trying to find someone who saw you pull in. That will narrow the time down still further.” He thought that would be reassuring, but her eyes flashed in response.

“If you think I did this, then you don't know me at all.”

“I don't think you attacked Larry,” he said carefully, aware that he was treading the line between cop and man. “But if you came in and he attacked you, you'd have been justified in defending yourself.”

“If it had happened that way, I would have. But it didn't. He was already lying on the floor, injured, when I came in.” The words were firm. Not argumentative, just assured.

He switched ground. “Did you leave the door unlocked when you went out?”

“Certainly not. I've told you before—I'm careful about things like that. I remember turning the knob to double-check it.”

“So how did Larry get in?”

She leaned her head on her hand for an instant, and the sign of weakness nearly knocked him off balance. But then her head came up.

“I told you someone had been in the cottage before, and you didn't believe me. I suppose Jason might have given Larry a key for some reason. Or he might have gotten hold of Jason's key and had a copy made. Or he could have walked in the back hallway of the bed-and-breakfast and lifted the key off the hook anytime Mrs. Anderson was occupied.”

Too many choices, and all of them were perfectly logical. “Granted, getting a key wouldn't have been impossible. In any event, he was here, and so was someone else. He didn't hit himself on the back of the head.”

“No.” She pressed her lips together in the gesture he'd begun to realize meant she was determined not to let emotion show.

“You'll have to stay somewhere else for tonight, at least, so we can process the scene. Maybe my parents—”

“No.” She snapped the word.

He couldn't help being relieved. His family was already too involved in this situation for his peace of mind.

“I can hear Mrs. Anderson out there now, giving Foster a hard time.” He doubted very much that Foster could hold out against a determined Mrs. Anderson much longer. “She can give you a room in the house for tonight. Just pack up what you'll need for tonight and tomorrow, and I'll set it up with her.”

For a moment Kate looked as if she'd like to argue the point. Then she shrugged and headed for the bedroom.

Just as well. He'd have had to insist, and that would have been uncomfortable, to say the least.

Who was he kidding? No matter what happened from here on out, the events of the past few hours had changed his view. There was something still to be learned about Jason's life—and perhaps even death—or Larry Foust wouldn't be lying in the hospital.

Things had changed between him and Kate, as well. And he didn't have the least idea how he was going to handle that.

* * *

E
VERYONE
IN
TOWN
must have heard about the attack on Larry Foust, Kate decided as she walked into Blackburn House the next morning. And that he had been found in the cottage Kate was occupying. The only question left was: Did they think she'd done it?

She'd called the hospital as soon as she got up, but after asking if she were a relative, the response had been that the patient's condition could only be discussed with family. And the police, she assumed.

So, little as she'd wanted to talk to him, she'd called Mac. He'd sounded as reluctant as she was, but he did say that Larry was in stable condition in a medically induced coma to reduce chances of possible brain damage. He'd be of no help to the police for days, and perhaps not then.

Mac had also said he'd meet her at the cottage at one that afternoon. His tone hadn't allowed for argument. Well, she was past worrying about being alone with him, in any event.

Why did he want to talk to her there? Did he think being on the scene would make her confess? If so, he was doomed to disappointment.

As an alternative to brooding, Kate decided to go to work as usual. Anything was better than staying cooped up in the room, pleasant though it was.

When she passed the quilt shop, Allison came rushing out, followed more sedately by Sarah. Allison grabbed her hand. “We heard about it from Mac. What a thing to happen! Are you all right? Maybe you shouldn't be out yet.”

Kate shrugged. “I'm fine. I wasn't hurt. As for being out—as long as I can handle people staring at me, it's better than staying in.”

“That's certain sure.” To Kate's surprise, Sarah gave her a quick hug. “If people want to talk they will. It always happens, but that doesn't change who you are.”

“Thanks.” Kate's throat was suddenly tight at the expected vote of support. Neither of them seemed to have doubts about her. “I appreciate it. I was afraid most people would be ready to ride me out of town on a rail after all the trouble I've stirred up.”

“You're a newcomer. You couldn't stir up anything that wasn't already there to be uncovered,” Sarah said firmly.

“Sarah's right, as she usually is,” Allison said. She flashed a smile at her partner. “Why don't you join us for lunch? We're going over to the café around noon.”

Sending a public message, in other words. “Maybe your future brother-in-law would rather you didn't show your support for me quite so visibly.” Kate suspected Mac was already cursing the fate that had led her straight from his family's house to discovering Larry.

“Don't underestimate Mac.” At the sight of a customer heading for the shop, Allison turned away. “We'll stop by for you when we're ready to leave.”

“Sounds good. But I'll have to be home by one o'clock. I'm meeting with Mac then.”

“No problem,” Allison said. “We'll break a little early. Sarah's mother is coming in this morning, so she'll cover for us. See you later.”

Feeling slightly better, Kate headed for the bookshop. At least Allison and Sarah didn't believe she'd brutally bludgeoned someone.

Emily looked up from the computer when Kate entered the bookshop, her expression somewhere between startled and dismayed. Planting a smile on her face, Kate approached the counter. “I hope I'm not late.”

“What? Oh, no, not at all. I'm just surprised. After what happened...” Emily's pink cheeks deepened to rose. “I thought maybe you wouldn't feel up to coming in today.”

“I'm better off working than sitting there brooding about it.” She hesitated, but Emily didn't say anything. This certainly wasn't the quick reassurance she'd had from Allison and Sarah. “Unless you don't want me here, that is.”

“On, no, that's not it at all.” Emily seemed to be making an effort to sound convincing. She nodded to the shelves Kate had been cleaning the previous day. “You can get on with that job. I've got to get some of the dead wood off the shelves, to make room for new releases. Although the minute I remove a book from the shelves, someone's sure to ask for it.”

Emily always seemed torn, needing reassurance on the smallest decision regarding the shop.

“I'll get right on it.” Kate tucked her bag on the shelf behind the counter and seized a cloth. Just keeping the shelves dust-free seemed a full-time job.

The area where she was working was out of sight of the front door. Had that been deliberate on Emily's part? She might not be eager to have such a controversial person on display in her shop.

If Emily felt that way, she'd have to come out and say so. Kate wasn't about to give up her access to Blackburn House for anything less. Not that it had provided her with much information so far.

Her thoughts reverted to that meeting with Mac this afternoon, as they'd done constantly since they'd spoken. Frustrated, she pulled a row of books from the shelf to dust behind them. She'd just begun to feel that Mac was cooperating with her. Now her involvement with the attack on Larry, even though she was innocent, would no doubt make that cooperation impossible.

Surely the fact that Larry had been attacked in the cottage proved that she was getting close to something, didn't it? It would focus Mac's attention on the drug angle, no doubt of it. Would he even follow up on the fact that Bart hadn't told him the whole story about firing Jason?

Her fingers clenched until the nails bit into her palms. If she didn't find anything—if she never knew what had happened to Jason—how was she going to live with that?

Her mind barely registered the jingle of the shop door until the snap of heels was followed by a sharp voice.

“Where is she? I know she's here, Emily. You get her out here right now!”

“Now, Ethel...” Emily's soft voice was immediately drowned by a louder one.

“Kate Beaumont! I'm not leaving until I see her.”

Kate stepped down from the stool she'd been using to reach the upper shelves, and moved around the standing shelf between her and the front of the shop. “I'm Kate Beaumont. What can I do for you?”

The woman who swung to face her looked to be in her forties. Thin and angular, she wore what seemed the uniform of the middle-aged in Laurel Ridge—stretch pants with a tunic-length top that masked whatever figure she had.

“You!” The woman strode toward her, anger twisting her face. “You did that to my baby. Why are you still walking around loose? You ought to be in jail.”

“Now, Ethel...” Emily repeated ineffectually. She gave Kate a helpless look. “This is Ethel Foust. Larry's mother.”

“You hurt my boy.” She took a step closer, close enough that Kate could see the anguish behind the anger in her face.

“No, I didn't,” she said quickly. “I just found him, that's all. I called for help.”

“Liar! What was my Larry doing there, if you didn't lure him to that cottage?”

“I don't know.” Kate tried to keep her voice even. No good would come of responding to anger with anger. “I wasn't there. He might have come by to talk to me about my brother.” But if so, how did he get in?

“I don't believe you.” She was shaking, her face contorted. “You—you...”


Ach
, Ethel, you're getting too upset.” Kate hadn't heard Sarah come in, but she was there suddenly, her voice soothing as she put her arms around the distraught woman. “You have to be strong now, for Larry's sake, ain't so?”

Ethel Foust's face seemed to crumple. “My poor boy.” Her voice caught on a sob.

Kate's heart twisted. The woman wouldn't believe it, but Kate knew exactly how she felt. She had been in the same place.

“You want to be with him.
Komm
, now.” Sarah turned her toward the door. “Here is Allison, and she'll drive you to the hospital. You shouldn't drive yourself when you're so upset.”

Allison hurried in, car keys swinging from her hand. “That's right.” She took the woman's arm. “I'll take you.”

All the fight seemed to have gone out of Ethel Foust. She sagged against Allison's supporting arm. “So kind,” she murmured.

“We are praying for him,” Sarah said. She darted a look at Kate as they went out the door, and her lips formed the word
sorry
.

“Oh, my goodness.” Emily hurried around the counter to stand looking after them. “I never thought of such a thing. Poor Ethel. She's just not thinking straight, that's all. Are you all right?”

Kate nodded, but she was shaking inside. “I think I'd better leave. If you don't mind, that is.”

“That's fine.” Emily's response was quick. “Things will settle down in a day or two. You'll see.”

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